


let’s play a little game [ʀᴇ-ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ]

by hypegirl



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 0.5 seconds of fluff, 1 second of angst, Attempt at Humor, Crack, Cupcakes, Dark Comedy, Humor, Inspired by Doki Doki Literature Club!, M/M, Psychological Horror, Tea, Tenwin, Video & Computer Games, Winil, an interesting mix of the two, lapslock, otome games, sociopathic tendencies, stan moon taeil, taewin, yuwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypegirl/pseuds/hypegirl
Summary: sicheng supposed it was kind of funny.he’d seen two of his closest friends be possessed to commit suicide in the name of love and been forced into solitude before the strange disappearance of a third.now, sicheng was about to witness a fourth end his life of his own accord.they were both very relaxed about the whole situation, as if death was no longer something to fear.as if they’d never been afraid in the first place.yes, it was all very amusing.in some twisted way.♡
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Lee Taeyong, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Moon Taeil, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	1. sᴀᴠᴇ ғɪʟᴇ 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i deleted this work because no one was reading it, but i’m re-uploading it because honestly, i worked way too hard on this. 
> 
> listen to anime music. actually, listen to anything you want. y’all in for a wild ride.
> 
> i didn’t want to use archive warnings cuz i lowkey hate them, but i know i should put in trigger warnings so you guys know what to expect. alright here goes.
> 
> suicide, references to depression and mental illness, self-harm, gore, blood, horror themes, emotional trauma, some overall unsettling and disturbing stuff that i’m not really sure how to describe. also if you're someone who dissociates, parts of this fic may not be very safe. 
> 
> if you are not comfortable reading something that references the things above, please click away. 
> 
> as always, my apologies for any typos you may encounter— feel free to let me know of any, i hate typos but i don’t have energy to proofread...
> 
> alright, that’s enough of that. enjoy!
> 
> edit 5/15/20- i just found a random yt fic from a year ago with the exact same name and ship as this one. there’s no relation between the two and i honestly think that’s a little terrifying.

the school cafeteria was always annoyingly warm, and ten’s suddenly critical attitude only added to the uncomfortable heat.

“you’re always so closed off.” he muttered, picking at his sandwich. “like, do something for once.” 

sicheng felt much like a snake. at a zoo. you know, the ones that sit with deadened expressions in their tanks while small children prod at the glass and will them to do something. he scowled. “you’re uncharacteristically cynical today.” 

the smaller boy scoffed. “i’m not being cynical. i’m being truthful. when was the last time you interacted with a human being? other than me?”

sicheng opened his mouth to speak, but conceded, staring down at his sad excuse for a school lunch for exactly a second before pushing back in his seat. “well, what do you suppose i should do then?” he answered, after a moment of deliberation. 

in all honesty, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

ten looked blankly at the wall in front of them before a smile slowly crept over his catlike features. 

sicheng had seen this look before. 

this couldn’t be good. no way in hell would this be good. 

“come with me to literature club after school.” 

literature club seemed like the most boring shit ten could have possibly thought up for him, but sicheng silently weighed the possibility. 

it’s not like he had anything else to do, considering his daily routine after school was homework, dinner, sleep. sicheng allowed himself an hour here and there to fangirl over various animes, but other than that, his exposure to the outside world was quite minimal. 

“since when have you been part of a literature club? aren’t you, like, failing language arts?”

“a b+ is not failing, sichengie. and no offense to mr. park, but it’s not like that man particularly feeds my inspiration.” 

sicheng remained unconvinced. why did he feel like ten had been planning this? “you want to me to come and read poetry about whatever poor boy you’ve set your sights on this time?”

before ten could reply, the sound of the bell cut through the air, sending half the cafeteria scrambling while the others lay back and groaned loudly, as if that would change the fact that they had to go to class.

ten shot sicheng his signature smirk/scowl hybrid— they had dubbed it the instant karma look— before scuttling away. 

he’d never seemed like a bibliophile to sicheng, but who knows? it seemed he had a lot to learn. 

♡

speak of the devil and he shall appear with more fury than ever, sicheng thought listlessly as mr. park droned on, seeming dead set on getting all of his students to pass out from exhaustion before the 90 minute period was over. 

it was horribly frustrating, how someone could make something so complex and interesting sound utterly boring.

sicheng cast a sideways look at his deskmate, who was desperately trying to take notes while blinking sleep from his eyes. 

trust kim doyoung to be the only one who really cared about school anymore. 

he shot a half-assed smile to the boy before returning his gaze to his own virtually blank sheet of notebook paper. 

doyoung returned with something comparable to a grimace. 

that counted as human interaction, right? 

kind of?

sure. yes!

oh, how wrong ten was, sicheng thought smugly to himself as he reveled in his little victory.

he shifted his gaze across the classroom, where each kid seemed more zombie-like than the last. 

the only exception was a girl who sat diagonally from them, who seemed to have given up on mr. park’s lecture entirely, staring dreamily at doyoung. 

sicheng could practically see little hearts in her eyes and floating around her head.

when was the last time someone had looked at him like that?

when was the last time he had looked at someone like that? 

he furrowed his brow before snapping back into reality and copying doyoung’s notes on whatever the fuck an epistrophe was.

just one more semester of torture and it would be over.

♡ 

when the bell finally rang (cutting mr. park off in the middle of a sentence), sicheng took his time gathering his stuff up to leave.

that was, until he noticed a small figure sprinting right past the classroom before turning back and propping himself up in the doorway. 

“you look like you ran a marathon.” sicheng muttered, playfully wrapping an arm around ten’s shoulders. 

it could have just been the sleep deprivation talking, but he was sure ten stiffened ever so slightly before beginning to drag sicheng through the hall. “yeah, well, we can’t be late, can we?” 

“late? to where?” 

“you literally have a three second memory.” 

“it’s better than being three feet tall.” 

ten stuck his tongue out, abruptly veering off to the side of the hallway and pushing open a door that sicheng had always figured led to a janitor’s closet or something. 

sicheng followed apprehensively, hearing a sharp voice cut through the air as he closed the door behind him. 

“you’re late again, dimwit.”

a skinny boy with curly auburn hair was perched atop a desk with his arms wrapped around a large box of what appeared to be cupcakes. he regarded ten with an eyeroll before noticing sicheng and going rigid. 

“and who’s this?” 

sicheng mirrored the boy, freezing in his place as ten grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the corner of the room. “this is sicheng. he-“

“he seems scared.” came a timid voice, just above a whisper. sicheng’s eyes darted downward to where another boy sat with his face obstructed by a book, legs crossed to keep from hitting a forgotten cup of tea on the floor beside him. 

sicheng could have sworn there was only one person there before. 

the boy on the desk paid no attention, leaping down and pushing the box carelessly behind him. he stepped forward to inspect sicheng, who once again felt like a caged animal. 

it never did end, did it?

the boy didn’t stop until there was only a few inches of distance between them, his eyes about level with sicheng’s shoulders. 

sicheng gulped and the boy retreated back to his place on the desk, nodding to himself. 

“sorry about him.” ten muttered. “they’re all kinda weird with new people.”

“then why did you bring me?” sicheng hissed, uncomfortable. 

ten didn’t reply.

”why are you two just standing there?” the boy grinned, accentuating his high cheekbones. “ten, you dumbass, you really can’t-“ 

“alright, children, settle down.” this time it was a third voice, coming from a boy who had definitely not been there before. 

he spun mindlessly in the swivel chair beside the teacher’s desk, shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes when he stopped, facing sicheng and ten. “taeil, you’re freaking him out.” 

the boy on the table pouted. 

sicheng spoke for the first time since he entered the room, starting quietly as to not startle the boy on the floor, who seemed extremely invested in whatever he was reading. “uh, i- i’m not really, well, ten kinda brought me here and i’m not much of a literature kinda guy so if y’all will excuse me i’m just gonna-“ 

he stepped towards the door, but ten forcefully dragged him inside, taking a random seat as sicheng awkwardly pulled a chair beside him.

“it’s not REALLY a literature club.” taeil spoke suddenly, picking at the corner of his box. “it’s more of a, well, food-and-emotional-support group for depressed homosexuals.”

“speak for yourself, taeil.” ten muttered, blowing a strand of carefully styled hair away from his face. 

“oh c’mon. tell me at least one of the people here is completely straight.” 

there was silence. the boy at the teacher’s desk laughed. “way to make a first impression, guys.” 

the boy on the floor passively shifted his gaze to the forgotten cup of tea.

“fine.” ten sighed. “you may be right about the homosexual thing, but the food thing? that’s all you.”

sicheng watched this, sufficiently amused. 

taeil sputtered, gesturing haplessly towards the kid on the floor, who remained unbothered. “are we just not gonna mention taeyong’s love affair with his teapot?” 

the boy in question, taeyong, quickly looked back to his book and stared at it pointedly.

the still unnamed boy at the desk rolled his eyes, brushing his bangs away to look over the scene before him. 

“i’m sorry, sicheng.” he shot sicheng a soft smile that sent the latter’s heart aflame for more reasons than one. 

woah there hold on for a sec let’s just-

“we’re not always like this. sometimes we actually get shit done. i’m yuta, by the way. apologies for not introducing myself earlier.” 

apologies. APOLOGIES? 

sicheng shuddered involuntarily, warranting a strange look from ten. 

jesus fucking christ. 

sicheng could only manage a small nod and a weak smile, grateful for the distraction when taeil, once again, launched into a passionate monologue. 

“yes, there is yuta, our glorious leader. the only one with braincells to spare.” he said this in a monotonous tone that made sicheng question whether he was joking or not. 

taeyong suddenly spoke up, shrinking slightly when everyone in the room turned to look at him. “sicheng, would you like some tea?” 

taeil scoffed. “see what i mean?” 

sicheng smiled fondly at the soft-spoken boy, the blush dusting his cheeks almost the same color as his fiery hair. “no, thank you. it was very nice of you to offer, though.” 

taeyong shrunk further. 

“yeah, he tends to have that effect on people.” 

“stop ruining the fucking mood, taeil.” ten hissed through his teeth, patting taeyong’s head softly. 

sicheng watched his scarlet hair bounce up and stand on end. that didn’t seem healthy. 

“while we’re on the topic, you want a cupcake?” taeil sounded totally uninterested.

“nah, i’m good, thanks.” 

“see?” taeil threw his hands up, and ten sighed loudly. “why don’t i get a ‘it was very nice of you to offer’?” 

ten had transitioned to twirling taeyong’s hair around his fingers. the poor boy squinted at his page. “because you’re kind of a bitch.” he placed his hand out for taeyong to rest his chin on it. 

taeyong glanced from the hand to ten’s face, and back to his book. 

ten clapped. “no one fucking loves me.” 

yuta laughed. 

♡

over the course of the next few weeks, sicheng found himself looking forward to literature club every day after school. 

that only made poor mr. park’s lectures seem longer. sicheng had resorted to holding silent conversations with the girl behind them, making kissy faces when he’d caught her staring at doyoung. 

she flipped him off a couple times, but she seemed to be just as open to a distraction as sicheng. 

when the bell finally rang, ten was always there to drag him into the room, where there was always something new happening.

some days it was an incessantly lazy acrostic poem game, some days it was sicheng waking everyone up as their sleep deprived asses managed to nod off in the middle of a conversation, some days it was taeil and ten chasing each other around the room while yuta and taeyong sat there looking like stressed parents before joining in. 

other days, they actually did manage (in the words of yuta) to get shit done. it was more poetry than anything, and as cringe-worthy as it should have been, sicheng found himself actually enjoying it. he soon came to learn that, wow, they were actually kind of good at this, and wow, he fucking sucked. 

but you know what? he tried. he really did. sicheng also realized, that after a bit of analysis, everyone’s writing kinda reflected their personalities. 

ten’s were usually, in some way or another, related to love (which resulted in quite a bit of teasing). taeyong’s were always weirdly profound, leaving all of them stunned while taeil sat there with a confused expression on his face. taeil himself wrote about happy things, but not annoyingly so. he tended to use a lot of imagery, and hated anytime someone gave him the slightest compliment on it. 

and then there was yuta. yuta managed to switch through styles and moods without anyone blinking an eye. it was weirdly cool. ten had even gone so far as to crown him the king of the haiku (“is it because i’m japanese?” “partially.”). 

despite how different they all were— and how unlikely it was that they even had one thing in common— they found themselves banding together like a regular group of friends. 

sicheng, who really hadn’t been a part of a group before, found it comforting that there were finally people who had his back. 

and every day, after their meeting was finished, he’d always walk home with ten, sustaining some light-hearted, usually pretty stupid conversation. 

today, however, felt slightly different. 

♡

the sun was bright, shining down on their heads and streaming through the leaves of the small trees lining the sidewalk, casting patterns and shadows onto the pavement. 

they walked in silence, the only sounds being their light footsteps and the soft chirping of birds resting on tree branches and power lines. 

sicheng glanced at ten out of the corner of his eye, wondering what it was that had his usually hyper friend hanging his head down low and dragging his feet. 

“what’s wrong?” he’d attempted to keep his voice casual, but the question came out laced with concern. 

ten looked upwards, making eye contact and shooting sicheng a weak smile. “oh, it’s nothing, really.”

“c’mon, tell me! don’t be sad.” sicheng pouted, grabbing ten’s hand and swinging his arm back and forth as they walked. 

ten’s weak smile returned, this time looking more tired than anything. “don’t worry, okay? i’ll tell you later.” 

as ten broke away to head into his house, sicheng furrowed his brow. 

he tried not to worry about it. 

♡

something in the atmosphere changed in the next few weeks. 

the literature club meetings had suddenly become close to silent, and it really felt like they had no motivation to do anything anymore. 

ten was really the mood maker of the group. when he was happy, everyone was happy. 

that didn’t seem to be the case at this point. 

nevertheless, sicheng tried to stay optimistic. he wasn’t sure how a friend group worked, but he did know that they would stick together and work through hard times. 

he appreciated yuta’s subtle (and sadly unsuccessful) attempts to lift the mood slightly, but lately, sicheng had found himself begin to feel more and more helpless. 

there was nothing anyone could do but hope that it would all pass. 

♡

the morning’s thunderstorm had left traces of petrichor in the humid air, steam rising up from the pavement. 

the silence only managed to make the air seem thicker. 

“so?” sicheng asked, tired of hearing only their somewhat muffled footsteps across the sidewalk. 

ten looked up in quiet surprise.

“are you going to tell me?” 

“tell you what?” ten’s voice was just above a whisper, probably since that was the first time he’d spoken in the past week. 

“you said you’d tell me what was bothering you. and don’t try denying it. something is definitely bothering you.” sicheng’s eyes flicked up and down for the few seconds of restored silence between them. 

he heard ten inhale softly, a few counts before a slightly louder sigh.

“do you promise you won’t be mad at me?” 

at that moment, ten seemed the smallest that sicheng had ever seen him in all seven years that they’d known each other; fragile, as if he could be broken with just one sharp look or snide remark. 

“of course not.” 

another pause. 

“i..” ten looked up with a questioning gaze, gauging sicheng’s reaction. “i have depression?” it was spoken not as a statement, as though ten himself couldn’t believe he was saying it. 

sicheng stopped abruptly, watching as his friend continued for a short distance down the pathway before turning around with a raised eyebrow, a valiant attempt to conceal his pained expression with a quizzical one. 

“wh.. what does that..” sicheng suddenly found himself with a stutter as ten backtracked to match him. “what does that even mean?” 

that was probably the worst thing he could have said at that moment, because ten shook his head with a humorless laugh, refusing to meet his eyes. 

they continued walking. 

“well, in simple terms, it feels like there’s someone inside my head.” ten started again, slightly louder this time.

sounding strangely more like himself. 

“they’re always telling me that i’m not good enough, stupid shit that i probably wouldn’t have been bothered by, if anyone else had said it. anyone other than, you know, me. it’s been getting worse, and i.. i just feel so helpless.” he paused. “like there’s no point even trying to do stuff because i know that it won’t mean anything, because i’m not capable of doing anything important. because i’m insignificant, and anything that i do to help myself is just more effort wasted.” 

sicheng felt his heart grow heavier with every word. 

“i know it all sounds dumb, and probably really self centered because i don’t really know how to put it into words— but, basically, what i mean is that... i feel like the world would probably be better off if i never existed?” 

there it was again, the slightly questioning tone of disbelief, betraying ten’s appearance of strength and displaying a sense of raw vulnerability to sicheng. 

“don’t say stuff like that.” at ten’s grimace, sicheng cleared his throat and continued. “i really don’t know how to tell you this other than to say that you matter. to me, to a lot of people. and i- i’m just- i just, i know it’s selfish but for what’s worth, i really do love you. it sounds really cliched and really dumb, but you’re seriously one of the strongest people i know.”

sicheng winced. it came out all weird, there was too much hesitation, and—

ten looked up with a piercing stare, one unlike anything sicheng had seen from him before. 

he smiled mirthlessly. 

“you’ll never love me the way i love you.”

he turned, leaving sicheng speechless before he glanced back around. 

“but i could never ask that of you, so it’s okay. you deserve someone better, anyways.” 

♡

ten didn’t show up to literature club the next day. 

sicheng walked in an unnerving silence, only to be met with more of the same once he entered the room. 

it no longer felt sad, per se. it was more of a sense of discomfort that sicheng observed when he went inside. 

it was as though they were all waiting for someone else to speak, not wanting to be the one to break the silence. 

“well?” taeil asked, cutting through the air. “are we just going to not talk for the next hour and a half?” 

everyone turned to look at him, but he didn’t flinch. 

“come on, guys. seriously. what’s happening?” 

♡

the tension had gradually loosened some over the course of the meeting. 

by the end, it had almost seemed like nothing happened in the first place. 

sicheng couldn’t help the bit of worry still tugging in the back of his mind, and it only got worse when yuta called him over after everyone left.

he walked slowly to the desk, face mirroring the other boy’s concerned expression. 

“so, uh..” yuta quietly slid a folded slip of paper across the desk to sicheng. “this fell out of ten’s bag during math. i- i didn’t want to look at it because i didn’t think it was for me, but, you’re his best friend and all...” he trailed off.

sicheng furrowed his brow, picking up the paper. 

‘winwin’ was scrawled across the front. it took sicheng a moment to recall the nickname that he hadn’t heard in years. 

he cast a glance back to yuta, who was watching his face with the same concerned expression as before.

quickly unfolding it, he noticed a short poem scribbled in tiny handwriting, the pencil marks darkening as he read further down the page. 

it was a direct address to someone, first starting out wistfully and gradually growing angrier with every line. 

ten’s words from the previous day echoed in the back of sicheng’s mind, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle with the stanza on the crumpled paper.

“it feels like there’s someone inside my head.” he’d said. “they’re always telling me that i’m not good enough.”

‘you made me believe your words’

“i feel like the world would probably be better off if i never existed?” 

‘now everyone can be happy’

sicheng could feel realization creeping up inside him when he thought back to the day before.

the last line, the darkest on the paper, swirled around in his mind, making his throat close up with fear. 

“s.. something...” he placed the paper back on the desk with shaking hands.

where was ten, anyways? 

“something happened. i- i have to..” 

he closed his eyes, hoping it would all just be some kind of a twisted dream. 

there was only one way for that poem to be interpreted, and sicheng feared he’d found its meaning. 

his sweet, bubbly childhood friend, who’d always been there, always loving...

“you’ll never love me the way i love you.”

he wouldn’t do this. he couldn’t do this. 

this couldn’t be real.

♡

the door to ten’s house had been left unlocked. 

sicheng had sprinted, hoping that he’d just misinterpreted and he’d find his best friend in his room doing homework or something. 

he was probably being paranoid. 

yeah, that seemed like a good explanation. 

still, he’d knocked at the door a few times, not bothering to subdue his panic when he got no reply. 

he eased open the door, stepping inside and feeling his heart pounding in his chest, threatening to explode. 

“ten?” he’d asked softly, gradually increasing his volume when he heard nothing, not even slight shuffling from above.

sicheng had raced around the seemingly empty house, desperate for a trace of anything that would show him that his best friend was okay, that he was just being stupid. 

he hadn’t seen a single light on in the entire house. 

that was, until he’d skidded through a corridor and seen a staircase illuminated from light below. 

he’d pushed open the glass door, not even caring if he shattered it. 

he’d raced down the stairs, heart still beating deafeningly loud. 

and when he’d entered the elegantly finished basement, he’d found nothing. 

sicheng felt a new sense of desperation clawing at him, destroying any and all of the hope he’d had before. 

he should just give up now. there was no way he’d find his friend at this point— he was just gone.

gone where, sicheng had no idea. 

the entire house was empty. 

still, sicheng turned, searching the small room. 

for what? 

he didn’t know. 

that was, until he’d found a door tucked away in the corner. it looked as though it hadn’t been used in years, a thick layer of dust coating the doorknob. 

there was no way ten was in here, his brain chided, you should just leave now. 

but sicheng didn’t, for he was too close. 

the door creaked when it opened, and stepping inside, sicheng could see it led to a section of unfinished basement, pipes sticking out against wooden boards for walls. 

it was considerably colder here, and there was a soft echo every time sicheng’s feet made contact with the freezing cement floor. 

his brain protested with every step he took into the darkness, but he went on, knowing that he was close.

sicheng slid a hand across the wall, looking for a light switch. 

he found one not much later, flicking it on and exposing nothing but more beams across the walls. 

a strangle, unsettling feeling washed over sicheng, as though his every move was being watched. 

maybe it was time for him to listen to the part of his brain that had been begging him to turn back around ever since he’d stepped foot in the house.

so he turned. that’s when he saw it. 

him. 

what sicheng had been looking for, and at the same time, what he’d hoped he wouldn’t find. 

hanging above the ground. 

dead.

the rope held ten suspended, casting shadows on the walls to create a veil of darkness around him. 

his body hung limply, face and neck pale from where the rope had cut off his circulation, suffocating him. 

sicheng closed his eyes as he felt himself blanching, trying to inch back as far as he could from the corpse and hitting the wall. 

when he looked up again, tasting bile at the back of his throat, he swore he could see a hint of a crooked, catlike smile on ten’s paper-white face, his eyes slowly fluttering open to regard the horrified boy before him. 

and sicheng heard it, in ten’s voice, the final line of his poem, ringing in his ears.

“now everyone can be happy.”

♡


	2. sᴀᴠᴇ ғɪʟᴇ 2

the school cafeteria was always annoyingly warm, but yuta’s hand was cool against the nape of sicheng’s neck. 

sicheng shot him a warning look, and the hand was quickly retracted. 

it wasn’t like he’d let yuta have the satisfaction of knowing how much he enjoyed it. 

“so?” yuta grinned, and sicheng looked up from his pathetic excuse for a school lunch. 

“so what?” god, he was getting good at this whole ‘perpetually annoyed’ thing. 

“are you doing anything after school today?” 

so much for that. 

“wh-what?” 

yuta looked up innocently, aware of how his words had been taken, and quite honestly, satisfied with sicheng’s reaction. 

“well? are you?” 

sicheng tried his hardest not to blush. “uh, yeah. why?” 

he bit back the urge to say something cheesy, like, “darling, i’m free for the rest of my life—“

“okay.” yuta smiled, but didn’t elaborate. 

sicheng sputtered. “b-but you-wh.. why?” 

“i was just wondering if you wanted to come with me to literature club after school today.”

oh. 

well- 

“okay. sure.”

“don’t be too disappointed, winwinnie,”  
yuta patted his head, and sicheng felt a sense of deja vu at the strange nickname.   
“i’ll ask you out soon enough.”

sicheng choked. 

♡

mr. park ranted on about epistrophes, doyoung took notes furiously, half the class was asleep, and this one girl seemed to be giving sicheng the death glare. 

so, in conclusion, a pretty normal language arts class. 

the girl who sat diagonally behind them kept staring, which sicheng thought was quite strange, considering they’d never sustained a conversation before. 

he shot her a confused glance, and she paused in the middle of her eyeroll to return it. 

weird. he’d have to get her name sometime. 

♡

when the bell finally rang, yuta was waiting by the doorway with his stupid shit-eating grin. 

sicheng noticed more than a few girls look him up and down on their way out, which prompted his face to involuntarily darken. 

“oh, c’mon, sichengie. don’t be like that.”

yuta slung an arm around sicheng’s shoulders as they walked down the hall, and the younger boy stiffened slightly.

seriously, where did he get these nicknames from? 

“wh-what do you mean? i’m completely fine.”

“mmmhm.” yuta loosened the tie of his uniform, and sicheng only managed to stiffen further. 

he swerved into a classroom near the back of the school.

two other boys were inside, one seated atop a desk and the other on the floor with his face buried in a book.

for some reason, looking at them, sicheng got the feeling that something was missing. 

maybe it was the way that they were only in the front of the classroom, leaving the back unoccupied. 

whatever the reason was, it was a weird thought to have upon meeting two random people. 

“oi!” yuta clapped to get their attention. 

the boy on the table only looked up for a second before his eyes went wide and he cast a glance to the boy on the floor.

he didn’t look up at all. 

he lowered the book slightly, a crooked smile spreading over his face. 

sicheng felt immediately uncomfortable, his brow furrowing as a thought tugged at the back of his mind.

something isn’t right here. 

he allowed himself to acknowledge the thought, and was immediately met with a supercut-like vision playing somewhere in his brain. 

a boy sicheng had never seen before. smiling, walking through the rain with him. they looked at each other for a moment, the boy’s smile slowly fading as he took sicheng’s hands in his own and wrapped them around his neck. 

sicheng stood, frozen, distracted by the boy’s smile until the light went out from his eyes and he fell limply to the ground. 

you did this. you killed him. 

what? 

“sicheng? are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

yuta’s hand had gone back to its place at the back of sicheng’s neck, feeling cold even though it was meant to be comforting. 

sicheng glanced back down to the boy on the floor, who’d gone back to his book, looking like nothing ever happened. 

he met eyes with the boy on the table, who flinched for a moment before gesturing for them to come inside. 

♡

despite their horrifyingly strange meeting, the club actually did manage to form a bond with one another, becoming a small, unlikely friend group. 

the boy who had been sitting on the desk, taeil, was always happy and energetic, bouncing off the walls. 

the other boy, taeyong, seemed content to just watch him, always absorbed in his books or staring at the floor. 

sicheng worried about taeyong. he got the sense that he used to be mild and caring, now unfeeling and... 

well, sicheng didn’t have a word for it. all he knew was that he had an impressive capability to scare all of them with only a few words. 

they’d tried to remain optimistic, tried to get taeyong to talk, but nothing seemed to work. 

yuta was the only one who seemed unconcerned by this, passing it off as “just how he is”. 

sicheng had found himself growing angrier at yuta every time he disregarded them.

taeil was slowly becoming less enthusiastic and more serious with every passing day. 

sicheng still got the feeling that something was missing, trying to bring back the vision of the boy in his head, trying to get some answers. 

he’d had no success so far. 

♡

as everyone had prepared to leave that day, taeil had walked almost silently up to sicheng, twisting a small piece of paper in his hands

sicheng nearly had a heart attack when he turned to see the boy standing barely inches away from him.

he watched taeil eye yuta, who was packing up by the front of the room, before handing sicheng the paper. 

upon unfolding it, he understood exactly what it was.

a cry for help. 

sicheng’s eyes flicked up from the paper. 

“what does this mean?” he whispered, making sure he’d understood it right.

“i-“ taeil started, but the emotion quickly drained from his face. “it’s stupid.” he replied in a monotone, snatching the sheet away from sicheng. “oh, by the way, i thought yuta was looking for you.”

“y-yuta?” sicheng glanced back to the desk where yuta usually sat, but it was empty. “taeil, i don’t-“ 

when he turned back around, taeil was gone, with no trace of his being there in the first place. 

♡

that night, as sicheng was laying in bed, about ready to give up on searching for the vision he’d seen when he’d first met the literature club, he saw it. 

him. 

“you don’t remember me?” he’d asked, voice soft and hoarse. 

after all, sicheng had figured it was hard to talk with a noose around your neck. 

sicheng shook his head no. 

“huh. i remember you, you know. i remember the look on your face when you found me.” he scoffed. “priceless. it hasn’t been all that long.”

sicheng said nothing, perplexed. 

“i know it’s all confusing. don’t worry. yuta’s trying to figure out a way to explain it to you— but i fear the worst is yet to come.” 

this was coming from the boy who’d hung himself, evidently to be found by sicheng. 

“he’s doing his best. it’s not as easy as it may seem. i’m sorry for all that you’re going through, for what it’s worth. even though it’s not my fault. and i’m not sure how much it’ll help, considering..” he trailed off.

“but, try your best to convince yourself that none of this is real. nothing is real.” 

what?

the boy smiled, shrugging. “i guess that’s all i can say. bye for now, sicheng.”

sicheng drifted off into a dreamless sleep as soon as the boy disappeared from view.

nothing is real. 

♡

when sicheng had entered the club room in the past, he’d always been surrounded by hushed conversations and giggles, sometimes games. 

it had always seemed calm and pleasant, despite the worries and fears each one of them was concealing.

the literature club always allowed the boy’s to forget their problems for a few moments, and feel as comfortable as possible with each other. or at least, try to. 

today, something was different. 

yuta hadn’t come to walk with him, and sicheng could hear raised voices from across the hall. 

with every step he took towards the room, he could gather bits and pieces of the conversation. 

it did not sound good, and sicheng debated for a moment whether or not to enter. 

he did, and was greeted by a scream of, “get the fuck out!” 

oh-kay, he thought, turning on his heel as yuta pushed past him with a very uncharacteristic glare, taeil following and looking on the verge of tears. 

“not you, sicheng, you’re... you’re fine.” 

if taeil and yuta were gone, that left—

sicheng whipped around, eyes widening at the sight of taeyong, his voice the loudest he’d ever heard it. 

he’d thought he was getting better. they all did. 

sicheng looked into taeyong’s eyes, filled with fire and rage, hoping his own confusion wouldn’t show through. 

“i know it’s all confusing. don’t worry.” he smiled widely and abruptly, something sicheng had never seen before, allowing the other boy a few moments to ponder where he’d heard those words before. 

“you—“ sicheng burst out, feeling an impossible weight settling on his chest. “you know him? the.. the dead boy?” 

taeyong’s smile weakened. “you don’t remember his name? he loved you so much, worked so hard to conceal his emotions, even went so far as to leave at the thought of you not feeling the same— and for what, for you to forget his name?” 

“ten. ten.” sicheng closed his eyes to stop the rush of memories that he’d never seen, homesickness for a home he’d never had, his heart breaking from a love he’d never felt. “what.. what do you mean, leave?” 

taeyong ignored the question. “i plan to join him soon. he tells me it’s nicer where he is.” he said quietly. 

“what? does.. does taeil know him too?” 

“no, i guess it’s only me. and yuta, obviously.” 

obviously?

“think of it as a glitch in the system, if you will. or something. i don’t know. yuta’s—“ taeyong froze mid sentence, his body visibly tensing up. 

“t-taeyong?” sicheng stepped forward, searching taeyong’s now-blank face. 

he found nothing, heard nothing. 

“i have to tell you something.” he answered, after a few beats of hesitation. 

“yeah? what?” sicheng’s brow furrowed with concern for the now shaking boy. 

“i’m..” he closed his eyes fully now, “i love you.” 

“huh?” 

“okay, well, now that that’s over—“ taeyong grinned disarmingly, prompting sicheng to backtrack a few steps. “yep. that’s it. keep going.” 

sicheng did as he was told, backing up until he felt the his body slamming against a wall. his eyes had gone wide and he tried to breathe deeply, overwhelmed. “hey, what’s...” 

“don’t worry about it, just do what i tell you.” sicheng didn’t even need to look up to feel taeyong’s grin, his gaze quite possibly boring holes into his very soul. 

this couldn’t be good.

“okay, now close your eyes.” 

sicheng protested. “but i don’t—“ 

“just fucking do it, sicheng.” taeyong’s smile hadn’t wavered, but his voice had dropped an octave, now straining through his gritted teeth. 

“i— okay. okay.” he did as told. 

sicheng heard a sharp intake of breath, not sure if it was his own or taeyong’s, and listened as everything went silent. he could no longer hear his own breathing, or the scuffling from the hall, or the ticking of the clock in the corner. 

weird. 

after a few beats of the uncomfortable silence, sicheng could feel his heart involuntarily speeding up, perplexed as to why he suddenly felt so cold. 

there was a voice in his head begging, imploring him to not open his eyes, to stay still. 

it sounded quite a lot like ten’s. 

sicheng tried his best to ignore it, but stood frozen for a few more beats while he searched for a sign that taeyong was still there. 

he found nothing. 

his eyes fluttered open, and as his head was hung low, the first thing he set his eyes on was the floor. 

sicheng watched as a trickle of blood flowed into his line of vision, steadily traveling down the floor to his feet. 

he followed the trail up to where it stemmed, from a larger pool of blood, in which he found taeyong, arms splayed out in impossible angles, completely still.

the first thing sicheng heard when he found himself capable to do so again was his own scream. 

♡

sicheng had long given up on trying to open the door. it seemed glued shut, unable to be moved like everything else in the classroom. 

it was a moment in time frozen still, the only things in motion being sicheng and the trickle of blood that was now pooling against the molding of a wall. 

he’d long given up on trying to help taeyong as well. every time he stepped within a certain distance of his body, he felt himself thrown back against the nearest wall. 

the smell of blood was thick in the air, and here was nothing sicheng could do but wait in silence until he felt tears stinging his eyes. 

while most tears made his sight blurry, these ones pixilated his vision until he could see nothing but an array of colored boxes until he let them spill down his cheeks, shaking his body with quiet sobs. 

when sicheng closed his eyes, he saw taeyong’s grin morphing into an expression of pain as he crumpled to the ground, a knife embedded into his chest. 

sicheng could feel the cold metal hilt in his hand just seconds before.

you did this. you killed him. 

what? 

sicheng knew he didn’t, he would never do something like that. why was his brain so dead-set on convincing him that he did? 

more importantly, why was this all happening to him? was this some kind of punishment? 

for what, sicheng didn’t know, but that didn’t stop him from jumping to all kinds of insane conclusions. 

he sat on the floor facing the door, still aware of the feeling that he was being watched. when sicheng turned around, however, he saw taeyong’s eyes were closed. 

he leaned back, too distraught to care that his hands and clothes were slowly being stained red. 

the silence returned again, hanging over sicheng’s head. 

he subconsciously watched the door handle turn quietly, and began staring in awe as he heard a soft click.

taeil burst in, panting as his eyes darted between the two boys, frozen on the floor. 

“oh my god.” he breathed, and sicheng was suddenly aware of how blank he looked, how his own eyes had glazed over even as he watched his best friend slowly panic. 

he raced forward, and sicheng could see the tears forming in taeil’s eyes even after wrapping his arms desperately around him. 

“oh my god.” he exhaled again. sicheng didn’t move for fear of getting blood on the other boy, allowing his breathing to stabilize as he realized what was happening. 

“taeil.” he muttered, not daring to let out a premature sigh of relief. 

“it’s okay. i’m here, okay? don’t worry. it’ll be fine.” taeil sounded more like he was convincing himself as he broke away, standing up to survey the scene for a second time. 

his eyes darting back to the door as yuta appeared, leaning nonchalantly against the doorway. 

sicheng blinked at his careless expression, looking to taeil to see if he saw the same thing. 

taeil was nowhere to be seen. 

“i apologize sincerely for the time you’ve spent.” he said loudly, and if sicheng wasn’t mistaken, yuta had glanced over to taeyong’s body, his expression betraying a mere ounce of fear before returning to its blank state. 

yuta’s voice dropped to a whisper. “i’m getting you out of here. i can explain, i promise.” 

“what?” 

“shh.” he stepped forward, extending an arm to help sicheng off the floor. “come on.” 

“where are we going?” sicheng cast a last glance back to taeyong before turning to yuta, who pursed his lips.

“i’m so sorry.” he’d muttered, avoiding the question. “i’m so, so sorry.” 

the silence returned only a moment before sicheng’s vision went black. 

♡


	3. sᴀᴠᴇ ғɪʟᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love this chapter. the summary for this fic was actually supposed to be in this part, but i took it out. enjoy your crack, kids.

sicheng looked down at his hands as a light flicked loudly on, illuminating the table in front of him and the chair he was sitting on. 

he found not a single trace of blood. 

on the side of the small room was a window, showing a night sky littered with stars, but nothing else. 

“so? have you figured it out yet?” 

sicheng looked forward, suddenly feeling a rush of anger at yuta’s bored expression, the way he was splayed out across the chair like a cat. 

“what do you mean, ‘figured it out’, you act like this is all just some game—“ 

“exactly.” yuta pointed lazily before straightening up in his chair, assuming a serious expression. “it is a game. it all is. i was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out, as the protagonist.”

“protagonist?” sicheng’s eyes darted back up, filled with shock. “what do you mean, wait. what?” 

it may not have been the most coherent sentence, but yuta got the point. 

he cleared his throat. “you exist in the real world. so does ten. the rest of us were created merely as characters, and ten was also manipulated for the purpose of the game. he was never actually in a literature club, but he was programmed to—“

“back up for a second. how do i know this isn’t all just some shit you made up to freak me out?” 

yuta breathed deeply. “i know that it’s all confusing— sorry, bad choice of words— but i’m going to need you to listen really carefully if you want all your questions to be answered.”

sicheng said nothing, crossing his arms defiantly as yuta began to speak again, softer this time. 

“my character was given the ability to change the script, the attributes of each character, all of that. the point of the game was for me to fuck it all up in a way that killed all of them and left you trapped with me.”

“what—“

“don’t ask. but at some point, the line between the game and reality got thinner until this became your real life, as well as ten’s.”

he didn’t allow sicheng a moment to process this.

“i’ve been trying to fix it, but i kept failing and ended up forcing ten and taeyong to, well, you know. 

“turns out that was exactly what i was expected to do for a smooth running of the game, and taeil just got deleted for some reason. i don’t know. 

“at this point, i was supposed to yes, tell you all of this shit, but also profess my love to you because, i’m not sure if you noticed, but all of these characters were created to fall in love with you.” 

sicheng rolled his eyes. “i’m still working on the whole game thing, and you expect me to—“

“i think the people might kill us both if i don’t say it right now.”

“what the- what people? are you high?” 

“calm down.”

“what do you mean, i’m..” 

“the first step to me figured out how to get us out of here is for you to accept this and calm the fuck down.”

sicheng drew back a few inches, feeling his chair begin to lean backwards before he grabbed at the table to steady himself. his gaze darted around the room, pointedly avoiding yuta as he started again. 

“i love you.” 

and then sicheng fell out of his chair. 

“damn, i thought that would do something.”

“you’re fucking insane, that’s what you are.” sicheng righted himself, blush disappearing instantly from his cheeks.

“from what i’ve observed, that seems to have some kind of effect. confess, and boom, i’m dead, you’re okay.” 

sicheng scoffed, propping his head up by his arm on the table.

“ok, hold on. if all the shit you’re saying is true, how are we supposed to get out?” 

sicheng watched as yuta’s expression quickly went blank. 

“ah, see— with all the power that my character has, i... am still too fucking dumb to figure that part out.” yuta grimaced. 

“well, we’ll figure that part out. but, uh, are.. are the rest of them going to be ok in the real world?” 

“didn’t we cover this already?” 

yuta withered under sicheng’s glare. “ah, yes, right, uh, we kinda don’t exist. i mean, you and ten will just go on with your lives and the rest of us will just be.. gone. b-but it’s okay because we’re just computer programs!” 

sicheng inhaled. “i’m not sure how to react to any of this.” 

they were silent for a few moments, both overwhelmed by their current situation. 

“i.. i think i need to kill myself.” 

at this, sicheng’s head jerked back upwards. “oh, fuck, not you too. i’ve had enough emotional trauma to last a lifetime.” 

“it’s either that or you kill me.” 

sicheng felt suppressed panic rushing back up to the surface. “i.. i mean, we don’t need to do that! i— i can just stay here, i mean, it’s not that bad, right?” 

“sicheng.” yuta pursed his lips. “two of your friends are dead, you found one of them and were trapped in a room with the other. another one of your friends has been basically destroyed, and you’ll have to relive odd visions of you killing people over and over for the rest of your life. do you want that?” 

sicheng remained silent, feeling yuta’s gaze boring holes into his soul. “i don’t want to kill you.” 

yuta shrugged. “you don’t need to.” 

“how do you know this is going to help anything?” 

“i don’t. it just seems logical.” 

sicheng fumed silently. “i’ve had it with this game.” he stood, turning to a door that had definitely not been there before. 

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you.” 

the door opened, displaying nothing but a continuation of the night sky that they’d seen out of the nearby window. sicheng closed the door, watching it melt back into the wall almost instantly. 

“where the fuck are we, anyways?” 

“whe- shit, i’ve had an idea.” 

“what?” 

sicheng watched with a perplexed expression and yuta grinned suddenly and disarmingly, snapping his fingers. 

“that’s some thanos level shit right there.” sicheng muttered, standing up with a start when he realized the other boy was no longer in the dimly lit box of a room. “yuta! where’d you fucking go!” 

“finna go kill myself!” came a distant reply, causing sicheng to face-palm like there was no tomorrow. 

“you’re a dumbass.” 

‘we’re both psychopaths,’ he refrained from adding.

there was a beat of silence before sicheng heard another reply, even farther in the distance than before. “i had a feeling that this was supposed to be serious and shit and technically i should have had a whole existential crisis because i’m supposed to be a bad dude, but like, i’m not? and for some reason, it’s just.. really funny all of a sudden.” 

“glad to see you’re amused. what’s going on?” 

“that.. that is not a good question to be asking. actually, no question is a good one to be asking as of now.” 

sicheng had to strain to hear yuta’s voice at this point. 

“alright, stay there, let’s see if this works.” 

“where am i gonna go—“ sicheng found himself cut off as his voice was no longer audible, all sounds suddenly ceasing. 

“not this again.” he mouthed, before feeling a vision tugging at the back of his mind. he closed his eyes, giving it permission to begin playing, like a screen in his brain. 

first, he saw yuta. sicheng expected to see himself killing the other boy, like he had with the rest, but instead was rendered motionless as he felt yuta’s hand over his eyes, blocking his vision. 

sicheng then felt cold hands against the back of his neck, wrapping around as if to suffocate him. 

strangely enough, he felt nothing. 

even when sicheng noticed something sharp gliding across his skin, leaving a trail of warm blood, he felt nothing. 

“i’ve been trying to save you.” the voice echoed throughout the empty space as yuta retracted his hand from sicheng’s eyes, using his thumb to wipe a streak of blood from his own ghostly white skin. 

“how do you feel?” 

♡


	4. ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ

the alarm clock cast a shadow of red light onto the floor, reading 1:27 am. 

there was an urgent knock at the window before sicheng heard it creak open, wind blowing his curtains haphazardly across the walls. 

the wave of relief he felt as he saw ten hop unceremoniously into his room was unparalleled. 

“you, know, you could just have used the front door like normal people.” sicheng attempted to keep the shakiness from his voice. 

“yeah, yeah.” the corners of ten’s mouth quirked upwards into a catlike smile. “this is more fun.” he was already wearing his school uniform, sicheng noticed.

he hopped onto the foot of sicheng’s bed. “i had a really fucked up dream.” 

the taller boy let out a cut off sigh. “uh.. i don’t think that was a dream.” 

ten narrowed his eyes. “you mean to tell me that i was actually chilling in heaven with a hot dude who kept making me tea?” 

sicheng felt his heart grow heavy, wanting to laugh and cry and scream all at once. instead, he cleared his throat and scoffed. “yeah, no, that seems unlikely.” he let his gaze drift away before darting back to ten. 

“say, what do you think about starting a literature club?” 

sicheng heard a soft laugh then, from somewhere in the depths of his mind. 

it sounded sweet and pure, like a child. 

he looked out the window at the onyx sky littered with stars, listening for a voice he knew he wouldn’t hear. 

“absolutely not.”

♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading and making it this far, you guys mean everything to me! make sure you take care of yourselves!
> 
> (hmu on [instagram](https://instagram.com/dear.__.dream?igshid=16hz0xg0t0p70) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/rmstzngn).)


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